Finally Something to Talk About
by Backroads
Summary: Even after everything, the relationship still isn't perfect.


It had been a long day. A good day, at least in some ways, but long. There had been so much to take, more than any other day, and even with the day long over and midnight near it seemed not enough had been done.

One of those days.

All seemed good. The village was happy. They had a new hero, at least a new respect for the worst Viking ever. Hiccup was conscious and healthy, though a whole lot of changes had been thrown at him. He didn't look quite the same, and it just wasn't his leg.

He sat on his bed, left leg curled up for examination, fingers touching the place where the flesh ended. The day's hours of flying and being greeted all around had taken its painful toll, and Hiccup felt as fatigued as when he had first woken up. Toothless crouched on the floor, calm for the night and fearing no threat of being kicked out. Hiccup preferred him there. Dragons were a comfort to have around, and Hiccup felt all the safer. Toothless had been there when he had awoken and, as childish as it seemed, Hiccup liked the idea of falling asleep with Toothless around.

The one solid thing with everything that had happened. One consistency that had spanned the bridge between his old life and this new one.

Stoick watched this all from the corner of his eye. He sat in the corner, opposite the room from Hiccup's bed, pretending to sharpen a knife. He had told himself he would not rush into this, give Hiccup the needed time to breathe, to figure things out. Hiccup couldn't be forced about; no, he was far too stubborn for that, and all that had happened was too much to sort through in a single day. Less than a single day. In all practicality, Hiccup should be resting, recovering his strength. Nearly two weeks of nothing but healing wasn't good enough. Suffice it that Hiccup was alive and okay.

It should have been better than this. What had he been hoping for? Everything to be okay? But it was okay. Better than okay. His son was alive, his son had proven himself more a Viking than anyone in Berk. Better than okay. But not yet perfect.

Hiccup knew he should be sleeping. Already Toothless' eyes were narrowing. His dad had said something about how many straight hours Toothless had stayed awake, refusing to leave Hiccup's bedside. How would his dad possibly know what? His father, who sat across the room, not saying anything. Just like before.

Hiccup smiled. At least his dad was proud of him. That was something. All Hiccup had ever wanted.

Yeah, it was okay. It would do.

Though he still couldn't shake the memory of _"You're not my son."_

His fingers brushed the area where skin met wood, rope, and leather. The injury felt unreal. He could barely walk on it, and he felt pain whenever he did. They had all said it would get better, that he would be fine. Of course he would be fine. Didn't change the fact of how much it sucked.

Oh well. He swallowed. Nothing he could do about it now. Except maybe wonder if he should take it off and what it would do to him to say nothing.

The knife was as sharp as it was ever going to be. As he stared at the blade Stoick felt helplessly awkward. Now what? Bed? It was terribly late, but the past two weeks had not been a time that had granted him much sleep. He faked a yawn and rose to his feet. "I suppose it's time for bed."

Hiccup looked up at him, surprised. "Oh. Yeah. I guess I'll just… sleep down here." He patted the bed.

Yes, that had been the plan, though Stoick was unsure how to say it. "For now."

Hiccup wasn't sure he could get up the stairs. "Oh, yeah. Well, goodnight." He bit his lip. "Thanks."

Stoick paused at the base of the stairs. "Do you want me to sleep down here?" He had been doing that, but what was he doing asking a conscious teenager such a question?

Hiccup shook his head. "No, it's okay. I'll probably just go right to sleep. Again. Like I haven't been sleeping enough." He forced a laugh.

Stoick forced one as well. "You… earned it. You needed it."

Hiccup shrugged and touched his leg, sadness returning to his eyes. "What happened here?"

That. Stoick closed his eyes for a moment, still remembering the sensation of steel cutting through bone. "When I found you, the bone was completely shattered. Crushed. I guess you and that dragon had fallen. You were lucky enough to be alive."

"I know I'm lucky." Leg versus life, the choice was clear. He was pretty sure, anyway. "So you found me?"

Stoick nodded. "I went looking for you, after that monster was destroyed. You were… you were very brave. A hero."

"I just did what you taught me, Dad. Vikings don't give up."

So maybe Hiccup had been listening over the years. Stoick gave a thin smile. "Vikings weren't supposed to befriend dragons, either."

Hiccup instinctively braced himself. Not this again.

"When did you find him?" Just a question, no accusations.

"The day I told you I shot down a Night Fury and no one believed me." He couldn't resist a bit of whine to his phrase, as immature as it sounded. But he would have to sound more mature than that. "I went out, and there he was, tied up by the Mangulator, and… I didn't kill him."

"So that silly weapon had worked." Stoick's laugh this time was more natural. "Then what?"

Hiccup shrugged. "It all just sort of… happened, Dad. You were gone, I was here by myself, I… trained a dragon. It wasn't that hard." He gazed at Toothless, now fully and comfortably asleep. "You let him in the house."

Yes, Stoick had. He had brought Hiccup home, and that dragon had come, too. He couldn't refuse the presence of the creature had had saved his son's life. "He would have burned the place if I hadn't. So you never learned a thing in dragon training?"

Hiccup shook his head. Dragon training had been survival, a task to get out of the way each day. It had all been about Toothless. "I'm sorry I lied about it. I didn't think it was a lie. Things just got out of control. And then when I tried to tell you…" He was surprised to still find anger. "…you just got mad. Like always."

Like always, indeed. Stoick lowered his eyes to the ground. It was his fault. He knew that, he had known it the moment that giant dragon had appeared. Of course he had been mad. He had devoted his life to protecting this village, and Hiccup's lack of truth had nearly killed men. Like Stoick's actions hadn't, though. "I made a mistake."

Hiccup knew that. Though it was the first time his father had ever admitted to a mistake. "You told me I wasn't your son."

That was a memory Stoick wanted gone but would never leave. It was seared into his mind, the biggest mistake he had ever made. "I'm sorry I said that. It's not true. I was angry."

_"I'm proud to call you my son."_ The better memory, much better. The phrase from his father that made it almost all better. Didn't change the fact the other was the worst thing Hiccup had ever been told. "I know. I'm sorry. I shouldn't bring it up."

After all, his dad had come looking for him. His dad had brought him back here to heal.

Stoick sighed. Hiccup shouldn't be apologizing. "I'd take it a back a thousand times if I could."

"I know, Dad."

No, Hiccup didn't know. Hiccup had no idea what it had been like to be there, to be more terrified than ever before in his life. Stoick had been there, had seen and held Hiccup's wounded body, scared beyond scared a single "I'm sorry" would be it. He hated thinking about this. "The dragons… they're helpful."

They were helpful, weren't they? Hiccup smiled. Though he felt a little jealous about how quickly everyone had seemed to have figured it out. "Yeah. You don't hate them?"

Stoick shook his head.

Probably still didn't love them. Just as well. Hiccup didn't think his dad would be his dad if he were crazy about dragons. "I can tell you more about them."

Stoick nodded.

Hiccup had never thought he would be talking about dragons with his dad. He looked again at Toothless. He still couldn't properly explain Toothless. How would his dad possibly understand that? At least his dad was trying. Hiccup opened his mouth, but still could think of nothing.

"In the morning," Stoick said gruffly. "I'm sure there's a lot to say. You… you need your rest."

"Yeah. Tomorrow." Hiccup had never been more grateful for a save. "That sounds great."

Stoick still had absolutely no idea what to ask his son about dragons. He turned back towards the stairs. He hadn't been up there in two weeks. He was too used to spending the night in the chair down here, barely sleeping, just watching Hiccup. Going up was… weird. But he said nothing about it. "Goodnight, son."

Hiccup suddenly found himself wishing his dad would stay. Another childish thing he would never voice out. He had Toothless. He would be okay. "Goodnight, Dad."

He lay down pulled the blanket over him. Yes, it would all be okay.


End file.
